


Parallel Lines

by Letters_from_the_TARDIS



Series: Running Parallel [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (TV Movie 1996)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alt! Doctor, Alt! Eight, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Time Lady!Rose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-10-13 22:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10523286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letters_from_the_TARDIS/pseuds/Letters_from_the_TARDIS
Summary: Not long after Bad Wolf turned her into a Time Lady, Rose's world is once again turned upside down by another powerful force - Torchwood. Trapped away from the Doctor, Rose loses hope. Adrift and on the run, she never expected the universe to give back what she'd lost.**Rebooted, revised, and better than ever!**





	1. Standing Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets into a spot of trouble with Torchwood. In other words, she has half the country after her. 
> 
> **This is the first chapter of the revised version**

Thirty two years after Bad Wolf Bay  
Rose stood at the blue marble counter, sipping her tea, surveying her cramped little flat and wondering what she could modify or upgrade next without getting herself evicted. Slurping the last of the tea, Rose nearly ended up with a mouthful of tea leaves.

Some things changed. Others did not. Her parents had died peacefully within hours of each other last year. Mickey, Jake, and Ricky had steadily aged even as she had not. So had her little brother, Tony.

But other things remained unchanged. The purple paisley sofa and chairs remained in a stolid sort of decrepitude. And the billions of sparks of golden life - well, they burned bright inside the furthest reaches of her mind, some winking out, others replacing them. When Rose had asked if there was another Gallifrey, another Doctor, the Doctor only shook his head, a sad smile on his face. He'd only been right on the second count.

Gallifrey still burned bright, a jewel in the heavens. She very much doubted there was a Doctor, however. Once, in her most desperate days, after Darlig Ulv Stranden, Rose had almost commandeered a ship, and tried to fly to Gallifrey. Rose shook her head at the memory, the hot, tight pain between her hearts flaring momentarily bright.

She set her mug down on the counter, and froze, hearing footsteps. Someone rang her doorbell with a deft hand, and Rose began creeping toward the door, makeshift sonic screwdriver held aloft menacingly. She unbarred the door, and it swung open, revealing Jake. Feeling slightly chagrined, Rose quickly pocketed the sonic, and ushered Jake into her apartment.

Jake was as trim as ever, his peroxide blond hair still slicked into spikes. But there were fine lines around his eyes and mouth, and his eyes were tired. A considerable amount of grey showed through the bleach in his hair. Jake flopped into one of her kitchen chairs, and gazed at Rose, a question in those eyes of indeterminate shade. She looked back at him quizzically.

Jake grinned at her, rolling his eyes, and mimed something crawling across the table. Oh. Rose couldn't help but smile smugly. “They've bugged me alright, but I reversed the feed. It feeds them jumbled up conversation, and tells me what they're saying.”

Jake leaned back, his smile fading. “Enough beating around the bush,” he said in a London accent much like hers had once been. “They're coming, Rose. Torchwood doesn't care about your reputation as the Wolf, or how many people you've saved. Rumour has it that they want you to build an entire fleet of TARDISes.”

Rose stared at him, goggle eyed. She quickly tamped down her emotions. “You can't build a TARDIS. They should know that. It's impossible.” So many emotions squeezed her chest like a vise.

Jake smiled bitterly, waving a hand in mock airiness. “So is transdimensional travel. What Torchwood wants, Torchwood gets.”

A horrible idea occurred to Rose. “Pull the other one, why don't you? Torchwood can't seriously be thinking of going toe to toe with the Time Lords... They'd be obliterated, and get the rest of the planet erased, or time looped.”

He nodded, and Rose could detect a whiff of fear on him. “Exactly…” Jake trailed off, then seemed to shake himself mentally. “They can't get their hands on you. They've had over a hundred years to think about how to break a Time Lord. I've bought you as much time as I can. Run. Run as far and as fast as you can. Get off world if possible.”

Rose took a split second to ponder what happened more than a hundred years ago, then she leaned forward and hugged a startled Jake fiercely. “You are the best friend I could have asked for in this universe.”

Jake smiled sadly. “Don't let Mickey hear you talking that way.”

The next few minutes were a blur of frenzied packing. There wasn't much Rose wished to take with her, just the essentials for survival and a few family photos.

Picking up a photo out of a drawer, Rose had to smile. Taken in front of the playground of the Powell Estates, it showed Rose and the Doctor kissing, while an exasperated Jackie stared into the camera, The Office-style. The Doctor was still in his eighth incarnation, wearing a leather jacket and dark trousers. His flyaway brown curls were cut jaw length, which was plenty long enough to give Jackie a burning desire to visit them with a pair of shears. A tear slipped down her cheek, and Rose hurriedly tucked the photo into her bag.

There was nothing else to pack. A loud crash echoed through the halls outside her flat, and ugly laughter followed quickly on its heels. “Come on out, little Wolf! Time to play.” Rose locked eyes with Jake, and he nodded to the fire escape. Rose hefted her bag higher onto her shoulder, and waved farewell to Jake.

A farewell that felt all too final. A few moments later, Rose was on the next roof, hightailing it to the bus station.

Two months later  
It was the middle of January, in a quaint little village called Stock. Sleet fell in driving sheets, obscuring the world in a mass of greyish slush, and brownish mud. People darted from one scrap of cover to another, or stayed inside entirely. Rose Marion Tyler was one of the latter.

Rose sat at the picture window of the one local chip shop, slowly chewing on a mouthful of chips, and trying not to remember all the similar ‘dates’ she and the Doctor had had when he was first recovering from his injuries suffered detonating the Moment. Rose looked up as the proprietor, a tall, skinny man with dark skin, probably in his thirties, sat down across from her.

Wary, Rose glanced up at him. “What do you want?” She deliberately thickened her accent.

The man smiled, and held up his hands placatingly. “I'm Dale Russell. You might not remember me, but you saved my wife's life two years ago, when those Daleks came looking to pick a fight. I owe you, Wolf.”

Rose sighed, dropping her head into her hands. “Just stay out of Torchwood’s way, alright? They won't hesitate to kill or torture you to get to me.”

Dale grew serious. “I'm not just here to thank you. I'm also here to warn you. Torchwood put out a hefty reward for your capture. You need to get out of the country, maybe off the planet. If you have a home, go back to it.”

Painful memories flared incandescent, sliding under Rose's skin.

_White walls, icy wind whipping a desolate beach. “No touch.” Tears sliding down her face. “Rose Tyler, Defender of Earth.” He'd said it with such grief stricken pride, that if Rose hadn't been planning on defending the earth, she would've signed up then and there._

The rush of memories was over in a fraction of a second. “This is the only home I've got,” Rose said, her voice dead. “My other home is gone.” She straightened, fisting her interlaced hands on the table.

Dale looked slightly guilty. “I'm sorry. I didn't realise you might be a refugee.”

Rose laughed. Even to her ear, it was bitter. “That's one word for it!” Rose stilled, focusing on Dale warily. “Jus’ how much did you say the reward is?”

Dale shook his head with a wry smile. “Enough to tempt me, and that's saying something. Ten million pounds, with the first five million up front. Which means…” he looked at her meaningfully. “You really ought to get out of here.”

Rose grinned at him, and for the first time in a while, it wasn't forced. “I almost think you're running out of potatoes, what with how eager you are to get me out of here.”

Dale clapped a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “Never. You're one of my best customers. One almost wonders why you're in here every day. Surely it can't be the chips.”

He was fishing, but Rose didn't really mind. “I'm remembering someone.” She stared blindly out the window, a smile wreathing her lips, and remembered.

_A bizarre grinding whoosh silenced Rose and froze her in her tracks a few blocks from home. A ghostly police box momentarily appeared, doors gaping wide, and spat out a barely conscious man._

Little had Rose known it, but those were to be the best two years of her life. Rose's eyes widened, and she stared at the enormous fleet of SUVs clogging up the narrow, cobbled street. Springing into action, Rose slapped more money on the table than strictly necessary. “I gotta run!”

Dale Russell crossed his arms and glared at her. “And get captured in three seconds flat? Not happening. Go hide in the back room, second door on the left. You'll be able to see and hear what's going on. I'll bluff them. Go!”

Shooting him an equally steely glare, Rose did as she was told. It wasn't like she'd stay back there if things went to hell. Grabbing her bag, Rose sidled down the short hall, carefully closing the door behind her. Even as Rose settled on a lumpy potato sack, craning her neck to see over the counter, the door slammed open with a cheery jingle.

Boots thumped, and a parade of Torchwood field operatives entered the little cafe. At a signal Rose knew all too well, the operatives fanned out. Rose's stomachs dropped when she saw her friend, pretty little Miranda standing with her gun levelled on Dale, face utterly, terrifyingly blank. Beside her, David, the big, unsubtle leader of the Rose-needs-to-die faction, paced dramatically. Only the conditioning the Doctor had taught her at her request prevented Rose from charging into the other room.

Silence reigned for three terrible seconds, then David wheeled around to face Dale, an awful smirk on his face. “Tell me. Where is our favourite little Wolf? Maybe I'll let you live if you tell me.”

Dale put on a confused expression. “I'm not sure what you're talking about. The Wolf came in, and left in a hurry. You can probably still catch her if you hurry.” A fake hopeful look came over his face, and Rose winced. He was laying it on too thick. “Do I get the reward? I've got a wife and a little girl to feed.”

David ignored the question. “You're lying. How about I kill you, and search this restaurant for the Wolf? I'll bet you twenty quid that she'll come running when I shoot you.”

Then things began to happen very fast. Three shots went off in rapid succession. Rose shot out of the back room, fearing the worst. Before she could get her bearings, a bullet lanced out, striking her in the thigh. Red hot agony tore through her. Around her, utter pandemonium reigned.

Rose would've remained there, trying desperately to stanch the arterial flow, until Miranda popped up from pummelling another agent into submission, and shouted at her. “Get out, Wolf!”

Doing an abrupt about face, Rose limped for the door as fast as her legs would carry her. Rose was three steps outside the back door when two things happened. The little sparks of Gallifreyan life all began to flicker and fade. And something hit Rose's time senses like a blow, stripping away every barrier she retained.

Screams echoed in her head, blotting out awareness. Rose fell to the ground, blood puddling across the freezing ground. When Rose became aware again, the silence in her head was almost too much. Only one spark remained, and it felt almost as if it were right in front of her. Guttering like a candle in a strong wind, it might be, but it was in no danger of going out.

Rose stared uncomprehendingly at the vast expanse of peeling, pockmarked blue paint in front of her nose… and then she understood. Raising one fist, Rose banged on the TARDIS, shouting weakly. “Help! Help me, please!” The last thing Rose remembered before she lost consciousness was strong, familiar hands lifting her. 


	2. Interlude I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I did pretty well. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The Doctor lay on the floor of the darkened TARDIS, feeling the temporal radiation rapidly eating away at his cells. Blood puddled around him, and the Doctor could feel a broken rib puncturing one lung. It was becoming a struggle even to breathe now. The Doctor's strength was rapidly slipping, but despite his greatly extended regeneration cycle, the expected regeneration energy never came.

He found that he didn't care much. The Doctor was about to close his eyes for the last time, when the last thing he'd have expected happened. A swirl of golden flame the size of a Time Lord appeared, swiftly growing arms and legs. Within seconds, a Time Lady stood there.

The Doctor recognised her, as she had been the form the Moment had chosen. She had rich auburn curls, a slim figure, and a nose that was slightly too long. Her normally sea green eyes glowed gold. Those eyes were ancient.

They saw too much, knew too much for even a Time Lord to comprehend. And suddenly the Doctor knew what she was. A deity, the Goddess of Time. Every TARDIS held a splinter of her, and apparently so did this Time Lady. The Doctor was too spent to muster up shock. She smiled at him, and bent to brush his shoulder with one hand.

A burst of energy filled the Doctor, pushing back all the damage done by the destruction of Gallifrey. He sat up, propping his back against the console. The Goddess smiled down at him, but her eyes were sad. “I am Bad Wolf. I'll offer you a choice. You can die. I have enough power to ensure that. Or...” she deliberately paused, waiting.

The Doctor didn't want to ask. The first option was too tempting. To be able to forget the screams of the dying? But curiosity always was his besetting sin. “Or?” he inquired.

Bad Wolf gave him a slow smile. “Or you can live. Someone needs you. Your future awaits, Doctor.”

The Doctor knew he didn't have a future. But he heard himself say, “I choose to live.”

The goddess broke out in a genuine grin. “Fantastic.”

She brushed her knuckles over his forehead in a featherlight caress. Almost instantly, the Doctor’s battered body began to heal. Bad Wolf tilted her head meaningfully towards the door. “I suggest you hurry. My other self isn't happy.”

What the heck? The Doctor abruptly realised that despite the painful emptiness in his head, one spark still remained. It was flickering in the distinctive pattern of someone about to regenerate. Outside, someone was shouting for help.

The goddess smiled indulgently at his look of realisation. Then she disappeared in a whirlwind of gold. The Doctor slowly got to his feet, feeling every year of his considerable age. He walked through the carnage of the console room, and pulled open one of the TARDIS doors.

A Time Lady lay sprawled on the ground, barely conscious. Reddish orange blood soaked into the slushy ground in alarming amounts. The Doctor took a fraction of a second to study her. Long, pale blonde hair with dark roots. A small frame. She was dressed in jeans and a pink hoodie. The Doctor reached down, and lifted her into his arms. The Time Lady stirred, groaning.

Almost immediately she lapsed back into true unconsciousness. The Doctor caught sight of one of her hands, momentarily wreathed in golden fire. He knew perfectly well what that meant. Regeneration was imminent, and there was nothing the Doctor could do to forestall it. The Doctor had to get her somewhere safe, immediately. The Doctor turned to shut the door.

Outside, a veritable flood of armed men and women staggered towards the TARDIS, clearly in pursuit of the mysterious Time Lady. They were battered and bruised, some bearing gunshot wounds that appeared self-inflicted. A very bewildered Doctor hastily shut the door, vowing never to get on the bad side of the unknown woman.

Gunshots rang out, but the Doctor paid them no mind. The TARDIS would protect them.

He placed the unconscious woman in the armchair helpfully provided by the TARDIS, then retreated to what he deemed a safe distance. It was not, in fact, a safe distance.

Just as the Doctor was congratulating himself on dodging a metaphorical bullet, a massive wave of energy, the likes of which he'd rarely seen before, ripped through the room, stepping up the already ridiculous level of carnage.

The energy caught the Doctor, sending him flying through the air. There was a brief sensation of soaring, then significant pain as he slammed into the floor with a bone rattling thump. By the time the Doctor had struggled to his feet, the Time Lady was standing, arms flung wide in a mock-dramatic pose that was one of the most common poses for regeneration, though each Time Lord tended to have their own particular style for regeneration.

Her face was already changing, her eyes open and glowing golden. Those eyes, that smile… they held the birth of galaxies, and the end of all things. They were ancient, and both joyous and sorrowful. Then she looked at the Doctor, and he realised that she was looking at every possible permutation of him, past, present, and future.

She smiled softly at him, but there were incandescent tears running down her face. Charley had smiled at him like that once, before Zagreus, before the Divergent Universe. It was a lover’s smile, that smile of someone who knows everything about you, and loves you anyway.

Then the Doctor shook himself mentally. He was reading too much into it. The goddess’s other half couldn't possibly feel that way. Golden eyes changed to sea green, and the regeneration energy faded as quickly as it had come, leaving the Time Lady in clothes too short and too wide.

At least, the Doctor didn't think she'd been wearing a crop top before. She blinked several times, the haziness fading from her eyes. The woman seemed to take in the carnage and the dimly lighted TARDIS, eyes wide. She abruptly seemed to come to a realisation. Her face crumpled, and she shot him one tear-stained glance before bolting deeper into the TARDIS.

* * *

 

She had to run, had to get away. That was _the_ Doctor, but he sure as hell wasn't _her_ Doctor. When he looked at her, in those blue eyes, there was no love, no recognition, just polite curiosity and a storm unending.

For one shining moment, Rose had believed that the Doctor, the proper Doctor, had somehow found a way to cross universes. To take her _home_. But once again, the universe had perpetrated a cruel joke.

It'd sent her the man she loved, in his most desperate hour. But a version of him who had never touched her, never loved her, didn't know her, didn't care about her. Wasn't life effed up? The barriers around her emotions finally broken, tears flowing freely, Rose ran even faster down the hall. When she finally stopped running, she stood in front of a arched cherry-wood door with a intricate rose carved into the top.

The door knob was a pink, translucent crystal carved into the likeness of her namesake flower. Praying that this wasn't a copy of her room on the other TARDIS, Rose reached out, turning the handle. She slipped inside, her tears slowing as she gazed around in open curiosity. Rose was still raw inside, but the pain wasn't overwhelming now. It was just reopening the wound, she told herself. I'll be fine.

She set about exploring the room. A large four poster bed occupied one corner, covered in teal bedclothes. Two armchairs sat waiting in front of a fireplace filled with a blazing fire. Staring into that fire, a series of images that Rose dimly recognised as a timeline pulled her under.

 _“Physician, heal thyself.” War, and death dealt at the hand of a man broken who had no name. Until at last, it ended in one final inferno. A basement full of Autons. “Run.” And a hand in hers. Bad Wolf everywhere. Icy wind whipping across a beach. Hurtling through the void, again and again. A thousand different realities, seeing the Doctor die a thousand times. The same beach, someone else, and a sense of panic. The TARDIS fading away._ No stop COME BACK!

The false reality snapped like a soap bubble. Rose stood there, cold sweat trickling down her face, gasping for all she was worth. It was her timeline, and the Doctor's. A cast-off. A shrivelled might-have-been.

But the only time she'd ever been able to see their timelines was after Bad Wolf made an appearance. Time to talk to the Doctor, and hope she hadn't gotten Dalek dust all over the upholstery.

* * *

 

Grumbling, the Doctor strode over to the console, pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and began to work. If he was quite honest with himself, he was worried about the poor woman wandering around his TARDIS. Granted, the TARDIS liked her, perhaps a little too much, but the unknown Time Lady obviously thought he was the second coming of the Great Vampire, and was distraught over the loss of their species.

Not that he blamed her. Lost in his thoughts, the Doctor barely noticed as he fixed the damaged wiring. He almost rewelded a wire, stopping only when the TARDIS zapped him. Nursing a scalded finger, the Doctor retreated to the ruined reading nook, and pondered why the mysterious woman had survived the moment. The Moment had sought out and destroyed all Daleks, TARDISes, and Gallifreyans.

Not just those on and around Gallifrey, but any who were off world or tried to flee. So why did she survive? Was she some sort of messed up consolation prize? _Look, I'm sorry you had to brutally kill three separate species. Here's a person._

The Moment had implied that she was someone important from his future. Just who was she?

The Doctor's time senses belatedly informed him that he'd been sitting there for the better part of fifteen minutes. Pain and fear, and… wry amusement? The emotions were not his own, but he did know who they belonged to.

He levelled an accusatory glare in the general vicinity of the TARDIS console. _Did you bond with her?_

The TARDIS hummed a smug affirmative. _Of course, my thief. The Wolf’s timeline is quite nice._

The Doctor took a few calming breaths. _I'll take your word for it, considering I can't see her timeline._

Then, feeling a tad more playful, _Traitor. Falling for the first pretty timeline you see. Shouldn't you have asked first?_ The first two sentences were teasing, but the third was quite serious.

The TARDIS hummed in polite disinterest, her ‘eyes’ directed elsewhere. The Doctor resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The Wolf took that moment to appear from wherever she'd been hidden away. Though she showed few outward signs of fear, he could feel her dread and unease as if it were his own. “Doctor?”

Shock and curiosity commingled in him. The Doctor stared at the Wolf for a few long moments. How could she possibly know his name? It was possible that she was from another universe. But if the Wolf had the TARDIS necessary to cross over, then why remain on earth even whilst in peril? If she'd been exiled, her TARDIS rendered nonfunctional, then surely she'd have stayed with her. Loyalty to a bonded TARDIS was a urge too strong to deny in most Gallifreyans.

It was time for answers. “Wolf, who are you? Where are you from?”

She flopped into the armchair next to him with boneless grace. When she spoke, her voice was rusty from adjustion, but bore a distinct Northern accent. “I'm no one, fr-”

The Doctor snorted. “No doubt. Considering that both the goddess of Time and the most deadly weapon in the universe have chosen you as their avatar, I have no doubt that you are no one,” he said dryly.

The Wolf raised her gaze to the ceiling, and the Doctor could hear her silently commiserating with the TARDIS. She cleared her throat pointedly, and continued. “I'm from another universe. There was a breach, and I fell through trying to seal it. Only problem was, I succeeded. So, here I am, trapped on an alternate earth, with no TARDIS and no way back home. And yes, I did know the other Doctor.”

The Wolf fell silent, and the Doctor could feel her pain flaring at the last words. He had a strong urge to hug her, but he doubted that would go over well, considering her initial reaction to his face. The Wolf leaned back in her chair, and sighed gustily. “Just fantastic.” She tilted her head over to gaze at him. “What were you saying about Bad Wolf and the Moment?”

The Doctor gathered his thoughts. “The Moment took your form when she spoke to me. And Bad Wolf saved my life, just before you collapsed outside the TARDIS. You became Bad Wolf while you were regenerating.”

The Wolf sat bolt upright, her voice scaling up into an incredulous squeak. “What? The last two times I became Bad Wolf, I nearly died or regenerated!” Then the other things the Doctor had said seemed to register. She laughed weakly. “She saved your life? Better be careful, out of the last two people she saved, one regenerated, and the other is a fixed point.”

There was guilt and genuine worry there. The Doctor reached out, touching her face. She leaned into the touch, and both their pain eased somewhat. The Doctor hated to rip the scab off the wound. But it was necessary. “What happened the other two times you were Bad Wolf?”

She caught his hand, and held it. “The first time, we were trapped, facing down an entire Dalek fleet on a satellite called the Gamestation. The Doctor sent me to Earth, along with the TARDIS. He probably figured I'd stay safe. Well, he figured wrong. I looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and she looked into me. I became Bad Wolf, and I faced down the Dalek emperor. I took the time vortex, and I poured it into his head. Ten thousand ships on fire, all because of me.”

The Doctor shivered at the eerie, multi tonal cadence that crept into her voice. “And the second time?”

The Wolf smiled just slightly. “Two years ago, a group of five blue-and-silver Daleks called the Eternity Circle came to Earth along with a few hundred of their abominations, seeking to pick up humans to experiment on.”

The Doctor sucked in a breath, his lip curling in silent distaste. The Wolf shot him a half-amused, half-sympathetic glance. Clearing his throat, the Doctor locked eyes with her. “What happened then?”

The Wolf shrugged lazily, still holding onto his hand. “I was cornered with Miranda and a few other agents, including some of the Rose-needs-to-die squad. A woman ran out in front of our captors, and I just knew she was going to be shot. I don't know how, but Miranda and I managed to sneak past the Skaro Degradations guarding us, and get the woman to safety. Right about then, our luck ran out. A ‘spider’ noticed us, and it shot Miranda, killing her. I just got so angry, I couldn't even contain it. Everything went gold, and then I was ankle deep in Dalek dust with Miranda standing next to me.” The Wolf shook her head, looking melancholy.

The Doctor mulled that over for a second. “When did you realise what happened to your friend Miranda?”

The Wolf looked mildly startled. “How did you- oh.” She seemed to take a moment to gather her thoughts. Her sharp edged emotions scraped against his mind like sandpaper. “Miranda thinks she just got lucky, or had some special immunity. I didn't have the hearts to tell her that no one, human or Time Lord, would survive a full-on shot from a Dalek death ray. But I saw her timeline, and _knew_. Then, two months ago, she got shot in the chest. The doctor swore up and down that she had a nicked aorta and wouldn't survive. Indeed, she was clinically dead for two minutes, and sat up, gasping just when they were about to call it. They couldn't find any evidence of her being shot at all.”

The Wolf abruptly yawned, and a secondhand wave of exhaustion swept over the Doctor. She got to her feet, dropping the Doctor's hand, and smiled at him. Under that smile, something of him that he had thought long dead basked. “Goodnight,” she said softly, and the Doctor knew he had it bad.

He was still smiling to himself when he walked over to the console, and put the damaged TARDIS in the vortex. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave kudos or a comment. Feedback is always appreciated for when I do a rewrite. :)


End file.
